The Perfect Silence         Audrey 李佩華    

Her almond-shaped eyes stared wistfully at the dance floor, watching all the girls break it down and have a good time. How great they were! In colorful tops and short skirts, looking fabulous and exuding self-confidence, moving to the beat with such vivacity, such stamina! Their energy was contagious, stimulating, and slowly, the rest of the club joined in. Shyly at first, but gradually, more and more people who had been itching to show some of their moves made their way down to the floor. A few remained in their seats watching the crowd of dancers, but none so intensely as she. It was a party, after all. But she just couldn’t overcome her bashfulness. Nobody would be paying any attention to her, it was true. She didn’t have to worry about being in the spotlight—that was never the case—but that still didn’t change anything. She didn’t even know how to dance.

        Making her way to the bar, she found that it was too dim for her to recognize any faces at a glance. She even walked past a couple of acquaintances without realizing it, her high heels clicking at a hurried pace. A random stranger was ogling her, and she was absolutely mortified. It wasn’t because somebody had given her the once-over— that was usual enough; it was that she was being checked out by a girl. She tried to shake it off and kept moving. It was useless to ask for passage politely because the blasting music made yelling necessary even at a 6-inch distance. So she wormed her way in as best she could, sometimes giving a little shove here and there, holding her breath to avoid inhaling the cloud of smoke which permeated the air in the sitting area. Darn those cigarette lovers she thought. As if it wasn’t enough for them to ruin their own lungs; they have to go and screw everybody else’s. When she finally reached the counter, she let out a sigh of relief and sat down, smoothing her dark hair with her fingers.

        “What would you like?” a friendly voice asked. She pondered that for a bit, looked the bartender straight in the eye and said four words she never would have used in any other scenario.

        “Sex on the beach.”

        “Really? You don’t look like that kind of girl,” he winked back. Noticing his twinkling light blue eyes, she felt the heat rise to her cheeks. He was nice enough not to comment and began pouring vodka and peach schnapps into a shaker. It looked like it was second nature to him, and after topping it off with cranberry juice, he promptly set a glass in front of her.

        “Here you go.”

        “Thanks,” she said. “And I do hope you were talking about the drink.”

“I wasn’t,” he smiled. She was a curious one, this girl. Different from the ones he had seen in the past, she did not seem to be a bubbly flirt, or a brokenhearted ex-girlfriend, or a lonely hunter. But she wasn’t a prudish “I belong to a convent” kind of girl, either. Those seldom appeared in places like these. He couldn’t quite make out what it was about her that made her so attractive. She was by no means the prettiest girl in the room, and she certainly didn’t act like it. Something was bothering her and his experience at the bar made him guess that she needed a boost of self-confidence. He was just deciding she might make interesting conversation when a tall, handsome young man sat down next to her. Darn.

“Hey babe,” his deep voice greeted her. She eyed him, and then stole a quick glance at the bartender, who seemed busy drying glasses with a towel. He didn’t look up.

“Hi…” she said tentatively. He smirked at her and said confidently:

“Girl, your dad must be a terrorist. Cuz you’re da bomb.”

That opening line just about did it for her. He was cute alright, but she had no clue as to what he was thinking. She stared at him incredulously, refusing to comment for fear of being mean, and her eyes moved once again in the direction of the barman. He was trying hard to cover all signs of amusement in his face, but his dancing eyes gave him away.

        It didn’t take long for the dense young man to figure out he wasn’t wanted and walk up to another cute chick nearby with the exact same line. It was amazing that guys like this even existed, it was just too much. She waited until he was a safe distance away, and then her laughter rang out like a silver bell—it wasn’t the after-effects of her alcohol consumption, either. For some reason, she felt much better.

        The bartender hadn’t heard such a delightful sound in a long time. It was so pure, showing how deliciously entertained she was, but it was not sarcastic in any way. She had been merciful, not allowing herself to laugh in front of the poor young man, but even now that she was free from his presence, she wasn’t being cruel at all.

        She sensed he was looking her way and their eyes met for a few seconds. Then the girl dropped hers and smiled shyly. She sipped her drink, stirring up the courage to speak to him.

        “Jeremy! Emergency, we’re outta Bacardi! Go out and get some!” a blonde waitress strode swiftly past him, thrusting a fifty dollar note in his back pocket as she did so.

        “I got it!” He rushed to the exit, looking over his shoulder at the girl, now alone at the bar. His blue gaze was almost apologetic, but the next moment, he was gone.

        She sighed. At least the drink was pretty good. And she knew his name. Once again, her dark orbs longingly observed the party. A few songs later she heard a familiar beat. Tap, tap, tap tap tap, her feet followed the music. It wouldn’t be so bad, really, and she had spent the money, so she might as well make the experience worth it, right? She took another sip.

        Something bumped into her and sent her glass flying. Brilliant.

        “I’m soooooorrrrrrrrrrrrry! I love red, don’t you?” a teenager slurred. “Your eyes are like the skyyy. You make me wanna flyyy.”

Please tell me he’s drunk.

        “I feel prettyyyyyyyy, oh so prettyyyyyyyyy, I feel pretty, and happy, and gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!”

        Yup, definitely drunk. She was afraid he would never leave, and was really worried about the possibility of being puked on, when a pair of arms grabbed the drunk boy.

        “It’s alright there, fella, we’re just gonna go get you cleaned up.” It was Jeremy.

He flashed her a smile as he led the boy to the bathroom. It was a sweet, encouraging smile, not a flirtatious one. For the first time, she noticed that the bar was getting crowded. She turned to focus on the dancing, thinking Jeremy would be long, and didn’t notice when he returned a few minutes later. He was busier than ever, but still, he followed her gaze and understood.

        It wasn’t fair, really, that some people could move with such ease, and go on for hours, never tiring. But none of that affected her. Not anymore. Right then, the booming speakers played:

“Can you keep up?
Baby boy, make me lose my breath
Bring the noise, make me lose my breath…”

        Her heart beat fast; she felt her blood rushing to her head, her veins were energized, and she knew. This song, this place, this moment. It was now or never.

        He watched as she stood up, took a few steps forward, and paused. Surprisingly, she turned around, and her eyes searched until they met his. He signaled with his head, urging her to keep walking. Her lips were still, but he could tell she was thanking him from the bottom of her heart.

        As she sauntered away, swaying her hips all the way to the dance floor, she felt happy. She had never been so self-assured in her whole life.